The Pale Fracture
The stone was heavy, a slab of pale granite no larger than a man’s torso, and Elias held it with a grip that had bled the skin from his palms three days ago. The weight of it was a physical anchor, pulling his shoulders down, dragging him toward the rubble of the city square where the High Council’s guards were already forming a line. He was thirty-two years old, a low-ranking scribe for the...
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